Dance With Me
by Camunki
Summary: In which Kurt gets drunk and Dave finally gets his dance. Kurtofsky, slash, rated T.


****Pairing:**** Kurtofsky  
><strong>Word<strong> Count: <strong>**1,900****  
>Rating<strong>:** T  
><strong>Summary: <strong>In which Kurt gets drunk and Dave finally gets his dance.**  
><strong>Notes: <strong>**Just a little drabble I put up on tumblr, but I liked the idea. :D

* * *

><p>"Dance with me."<p>

Kurt wasn't sure where it came from. It wasn't what he meant to say. He didn't mean to say _anything,_he was just going to smile and walk away from Dave, to break Blaine away from Sebastian and dance with him. Just like last time.

Instead, he turned to Dave and said, "Dance with me."

Admittedly, things were a little different than last time. His blood alcohol level was higher, for a start. He thought he might as well try it since Blaine clearly hadn't learnt his lesson from their previous Scandals visit, and the memory of his '_Sebastian __doesn__'__t __mean __anything __to __me,__' _was fading a little too fast. He didn't even know why he was there, it's not like he was going to prove anything, since clearly he was a failure at this whole partying thing. No matter how many times he challenged Sebastian, Kurt would never be Blaine's gay bar superstar.

Meeting Dave was a little different too, because they'd actually planned it this time. Kurt had sort of hoped that Dave would be able to distract Sebastian, but like every other one of his plans, it had gone South when Dave hadn't seem to even notice the taller guy, instead engaging Kurt in a conversation that had completely sidetracked him from the fact that Sebastian and Blaine had gone off to dance again. When Kurt and Dave finally noticed their absence was when Kurt stopped ordering his drinks virgin.

"I thought you were the designated driver." Dave had commented, and Kurt had glared at him and downed a third or fourth shot of something disgusting.

"Not this time." He took a long swig of another drink, before Dave wrenched it from his hands.

"You'll throw up." Dave offered as an explanation, but Kurt ignored him, snatching his drink back and finishing it in one gulp.

That's when Kurt had turned to the dance floor, his head already spinning, determined to break his boyfriend away from the meerfaced… meerkatted… meer… _something._ Whatever Sebastian was. Only, instead of walking over there, he seemed to have just asked Dave to dance with him.

Dave stared for a moment, and then raised an eyebrow. "You want to make hairgel jealous?"

Kurt nodded, because yes, that made sense. Of course that was why he asked. "Also, you owe me a dance, _Yogi._"

A flash of a grin passed over Dave's face as he shrugged. "I guess I do." he replied, as Kurt pulled him onto the dance floor. They were nowhere near Blaine and Sebastian, as Dave quickly informed Kurt, maneuvering them a little closer, but still not in plain view.

Kurt danced like he did every thing else in life: over the top to the point of ridiculousness. Dave couldn't help but let out a laugh as Kurt shimmied, attracting a few confused stares around them. That earned him a glare from Kurt, who clearly didn't see the problem.

"Are you laughing at me?" he demanded, immediately stopping.

"No…well, yes. I've just never seen anyone dance that like in a place like this."

"Would you rather I dance more like…" Kurt motioned to a couple a few feet away from them, whose dancing had gone beyond the point of grinding and was clearly just dry humping in time to the music. "like _that?__"_

Dave laughed softly, "You wanted to make him jealous!" he teased, and then froze, because Kurt's expression had become contemplative. "I was joking, Kurt. It would be kind of inappro–" but even as he said it, Kurt's arms looped around his neck, and Kurt was pulling him closer. "_Kurt!__"_

"Shh." Kurt said quietly, "Just dance." He pushed his chest against Dave's and rolled his hips a little, and that was it. Dave couldn't do it anymore. He grabbed Kurt's hands and pushed him gently away, shaking his head. It had gone too far, and Dave wasn't going to be the reason for Kurt's breakup. He _couldn__'__t._

Kurt stared at him with an expression of absolute betrayal. His eyes were narrowed and welling up, his hands clenched into fists, and before Dave knew it, he was fleeing, shoving past various men in leather and the bouncer to escape to the open air.

Dave didn't know what to do. This wasn't his thing to deal with. It wasn't him that should run after Kurt, it was Blaine. His _boyfriend,_ Blaine, who caused this whole damn mess in the first place. This wasn't his fucking problem.

And yet, Blaine hadn't even noticed, and Dave knew what it was like to have no one come after you.

The cold and the rain outside hit him like a slap to the face. He scanned the car park until he saw a car with the inside lights on, and walked towards it, trying to shield his eyes from the rain.

It was Kurt, alright, sat in the passenger's seat with his knees up to his chin. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, but it was probably less embarrassing than crying into the dashboard, Dave wagered. He knocked on the window, and Kurt lifted his face to look at him, before reaching toward the handle.

With a small _click,_ the doors locked.

Dave scowled at Kurt, and knocked harder, but Kurt ignored him, continuning to sob into his knees. "Come on, it's raining." Dave shouted, and watched as Kurt's shoulders sagged in defeat. He flicked the lock on the doors and Dave made his way around to the driver's side and let himself in. "Thanks." He murmured.

"Why do I keep doing this to myself?" Kurt whined, dropping his feet down and leaning on the dashboard with his elbows. "Isn't it bad enough that people are out to humiliate me without helping them along?"

"I wasn't trying to-"

"Not you, that stupid…stupid…_asshole!__"_ Kurt cursed, and then pulled a face like the word actually tasted sour. "He…he just swans in there and…and Blaine gets all doe-eyed and it's like I don't even _exist_ anymore! The way he _looks_ at him…it's not _fair!_ Why doesn't anyone want me? What am I doing wrong? Am…am I – _hic__ –_ really that unattractive?"

Dave got stuck between rolling his eyes and blurting out something embarrassing, but eventually went with a small and hopefully reassuring smile. "You know you're not unattractive."

Big, teary eyes blinked at him. Kurt shook his head like he didn't believe Dave, and then stared out of the windscreen, as if he was thinking hard about something. Then again, Dave mused, with the amount he'd drunk, he'd have to think hard to accomplish anything right now.

"Let me drive you home." Dave said, with a resigned sigh. Clearly, there was no way Kurt was driving any time soon, and it was either this or call a taxi. Thankfully, Dave had only gotten through one bottle before Kurt started to go insane.

"Can't." Kurt slurred in response. "Was supposed to go to Blaine's. Dad doesn't know where we are." Dave did roll his eyes this time. Now what? He could hardly take Kurt back to Blaine's house, and he really didn't want to have to confront an angry Mr. Hummel after their last encounter.

"I'll take you to mine. Dad's away for the next few days-" thus why he's out at a gay bar "and we have a spare room."

Kurt responded with a nod, and an added "Please." Then, a moment later, he laughed suddenly, just as Dave started up the engine. "Dave Karofsky is taking me home with him. I'm going home with Dave Karofsky. Who would have thought?" When Dave said nothing, he sighed. "I'm sorry…sorry you're stuck with me. You should'a…" he blinked as he forgot what he was saying, and then regained his train of thought "Should have just left me here to cry."

"Like I could do that." Dave muttered, "You'd probably end up driving yourself home drunk and crashing."

"Pro'lly." Kurt agreed, his voice slurred with both the alcohol and the crying. "And then Blaine would feel guilty."

"Don't say things like that." Dave cut in, trying not to sound as worried as he was. It wasn't as if Kurt was a prime suspect for suicide but hearing him even joke about death was scary enough. Mostly because Dave had had those thoughts before, plenty of times.

"M'sorry." Kurt murmured, and leant forwards onto the dashboard. Dave kept on driving in silence and Kurt eventually drifted off to sleep.

"Kurt." Kurt felt a hand shaking his shoulders. He opened his eyes blearily, and saw that Dave was standing next to the car, getting rained on. Blinking, he shook his head to try and clear it, and undid his seatbelt to get out of the car.

He didn't exactly know how he went from inside the car to cradled in Dave's arms, but he didn't care that much, instead just snuggling into Dave's chest as the bigger teen carried him into the house, groaning and complaining the whole way in. He had to put him down to open the door, but when he found Kurt slowly sinking to the ground, he scooped him back up and lifted him into the house before depositing him on the living room sofa.

"I'm getting you a drink of water." he told Kurt, who was busy curling up into the fetal position. "Uh, and a bucket. Don't move."

"Mmmn." Kurt responded, and Dave took that to mean yes.

He came back a few minutes later with a glass of water and the biggest plastic bowl he could find. Kurt hadn't shifted even a little, and Dave poked him gently. "Drink." he ordered. Kurt rolled over and forced himself to sit up, taking the glass and drinking deeply.

"You really don't drink very often, do you?"

"Not since I got alcohol poisoning in Sophomore year." Kurt groaned, draining the rest of the glass.

"I don't even want to know." Dave pulled a face, "Right, I'm taking you upstairs. Can you stand?" He offered a hand to Kurt.

"I think so." Taking Dave's hand, he was pulled to his feet. He staggered a little, and Dave tried to catch him, but he waved him off. "I'm fine. Just give me your arm." He looped his arm around Dave's and Dave led him to the stairs.

"It gets better over time. The whole getting drunk thing, I mean. You seem to have bypassed the happy stage."

"I was plenty happy until you refused to dance with me." Kurt snapped back, sounding a little more sober. Dave wondered briefly if he really was as drunk as he seemed. Still, he had nothing to say to that, so they continued in silence until they got to the spare room. Kurt let go of his arm and started towards the bed, before stopping and turning around. "Dance with me." he said, for the second time that night.

"Blaine isn't here. You don't need to make him jealous."

"It's not for Blaine." Kurt whispered. "You still owe me." And before Dave could do anything, Kurt took his hand and snaked another round his waist.

"What are you doing?"

"Slow dancing, meathead." Kurt murmured, leaning into Dave's shoulder and leading him in a dance. Dave knew what it was, he wasn't an idiot. The question had meant _why._

He could actually feel Kurt's heartbeat as he leant against his chest, his fingers pressing into Dave's hip. Dave found himself succumbing to the non-existent rhythm and swaying slowly, ignoring the warmth of Kurt's breath against his neck and the way Kurt was touching him. Kurt's breathing seemed to get harder as the two of them danced, moving around the room like it was the dancefloor at their prom.

Eventually, they came to a stop, and Kurt pulled back slightly. Dave couldn't help but stare down at him, his eyes wide and a small, satisfied smile playing at his lips. He waited for Kurt to break away, to let him go and

But Kurt didn't move. He remained pressed against Dave, kept eyecontact until Dave was panicking about what to do.

And then he leaned in and kissed him.

Dave's eyes widened comically as Kurt's lips pressed against his, softly prying. He couldn't move, couldn't react because Kurt was _kissing_ him, and what did this mean?

Finally, Kurt pulled away, his cheeks flushed and still smiling. He let Dave out of his grasp, and turned to collapse onto the bed with a _flump._

Dave stood, fixed like a statue, and went over thousand different ways to act. Eventually he went with blasé/pretending to forget what just happened. "I'll…I'll get you more water." He cleared his throat, trying not to sound over emotional. "Bowl's here if you need to hurl. Be sick on our sheets and I tell your dad you went to a gay bar and came home with me." Kurt laughed softly, and Dave went to the bathroom to fill up another glass.

When he came back in, Kurt was snoring gently, his chest rising and falling heavily. No way he was awake. Dave placed the glass down gently on a side cabinet and shoved Kurt over slightly so he could throw the covers over him.

Okay, so maybe he stopped to stare at Kurt's unconscious face for a little while. Kurt's expression was completely blank and his mouth hung open slightly, occasionally twitching. Dave briefly wondered how he managed to look gorgeous even when sleeping. Even when snoring and drooling slightly. Maybe it was a matter of perspective. Blaine must have seen how much he had, right? How could he possibly dance with that Warbler guy when he had Kurt?

Dave shook himself. There was no need for thoughts like that. Kurt loved Blaine and that was that, end of story. Kurt and Blaine were together, and Dave was…Dave was nothing to Kurt. He flicked off the lights and closed the door as quietly as he could, heading to bed himself.

He dreamed of smiles, of Kurt and dancing.


End file.
